


behind the lines in her stepfather's face

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Child Death, Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Daughter Relationship, Feels, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Gen, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, Memoirs, Memories, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: My Stepfather's Face: A soldier's Secretwas a book written by Shaeeah Lawquane at the height of the New Republic. It chronicled Lawquane's childhood on Saleucami with her adopted father Cut Lawquane, a human clone and a deserter of the Grand Army of the Republic.Shaeeah interviews her stepfather.
Relationships: Cut Lawquane & Original Clone Trooper Character(s), Cut Lawquane & Shaeeah Lawquane
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	behind the lines in her stepfather's face

Shaeeah sat her father down at the table, a glass of eopie milk in his hand and a shy smile on his face. 

"You sure about this?" he asked. "I mean, it's not really _that_ interesting."

"If it weren't interesting, I wouldn't have been asking you about it since I was eight."

"You once asked me about moisture vaporators for an hour," Cut teased his daughter. "I don't even know anything about those things."

"To be fair, I was six, and _you_ kept dodging my questions."

"Opposite of an evaporator. They take moisture out of the air. What's to get?"

Shaeeah rolled her eyes as she fiddled with her holorecorder. "Give me a minute to make sure this thing works."

"Sure thing." Cut took a sip of his milk and watched Shaeeah switch the recorder on, say a few nonsense sentences, and play them back for herself. Satisfied, she placed it in the center of the table.

"Thought you were gonna be taking notes on that fancy new datapad of yours?"

"I am. But I think, now that you _know_ I'm writing about your life, it wouldn't hurt to have a recording so I can go back to what you said without having to ask you about it over and over and over while you're trying to work."

Cut nodded slowly. "Fair." He leaned back in his chair as she turned it on and sat down across from him, datapad and stylus in hand. "What do you wanna know?"

Shaeeah gently bit the end of the stylus for a moment. "I've been trying to figure out how to start this section on you for a while . . . How about your earliest memory? I guess that makes as much sense as anything else."

"Earliest memory, huh?" Cut bit his lip, clicking his tongue as he thought. "Probably when Blast — he was our sergeant when we were cadets. He had the lowest number, and was generally considered the oldest — he and Lock got in a scrap with a couple of Alpha troopers." He chuckled. "We were, what, maybe two? Two and a half? So, about four or five, physically. The Alphas were a little older. And, of course, Blast and Lock got the kark beaten out of 'em. As soon as they were out of the medbay, the longnecks — uh, that's what we called the Kaminoans — had 'em both put in retraining pods for two days." Cut bit his lip slightly. "Didn't do much to help, especially with the claustrophobia. . . . Just made Lock angrier."

"Retraining pods?"

"They were basically isolation chambers. I mean, the ones I saw, anyway. You could see out of 'em through a little window, but it was dark from the outside. Only way we knew if anyone was already in it was a little indicator towards the bottom. Nobody could see you in there, and they were completely soundproof, so even if you called out for help . . ." He cleared his throat. "Plus, you were usually strapped down, so you went in easier and didn't rip out the nutrient drip." Cut glanced up at his daughter, only to see a sad, shocked expression on her face.

"Dad . . ." She reached for his hand. "You were just _kids_."

Cut smiled, uncomfortable, and pulled his hand away to rub at the back of his neck. "Yeah. It, uh. It wasn't great." He sniffed once before continuing. "Mess up enough, and they actually might go through with the thinly-veiled threats they always threw at us." He cleared his throat. "There was a transfer in my squad, Feedback. He was the last one left from his batch. The rest of 'em had been _de_ _commissioned_ , as the longnecks put it. Deemed unfit for battle." He sighed. "We all knew what that meant; Feedback's batchers were dead."

"Kriff. How old were you when he got transferred in?"

"Uh, nine? Yeah, we'd just hit our ninth decantation day." He was fighting tears now. "First one we ever celebrated without Blast."

" . . . What happened to him?"

"Decommissioned." Cut's throat tightened. "We didn't fight it. Curio and Doubletime wanted to; said it was what he'd do for us. But that was the problem. Had it happened a few years before, none of us would have hesitated. No clone would have; and no clone _did_ , in the early days. But it never worked, and usually resulted in more loss than necessary."

Shaeeah moved to stand, one arm on her father's shoulder. "Dad, it's okay. We can stop if you want to."

Cut shook his head. "'M fine, Shaeeah." He swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. "I'll be fine."

"Dad." She got down on one knee in front of him and pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned immediately, trying to keep himself from sobbing into her shoulder.

"Blast always tried to take care of us," he choked. "He- He really was our big brother. And we just let them _kill him_."

"There was nothing you could have done," Shaeeah assured him softly. "We can take a break, if that's what you need."

Cut nodded, hesitant, but thankful for his daughter's intuition. "Yeah. Just a minute." He moved to let her turn off the holorecorder before pulling her back into a hug.

"Take as long as you need," she said.

As Cut's sobs died down and his shoulders stopped shaking, he found himself chuckling. "Blast would've loved you, Sha'ika." He held her at arm's length and brushed her cheek with his thumb. "He'd probably try and fight me over who got to be your stepdad," he said with a laugh.

Shaeeah giggled. "As if it could be anyone other than you." She relaxed slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah; I'll be okay." Cut wiped his tears on the heels of his hands, then picked up the holorecorder and turned it back on. "Truth be told, even if we _could_ convince the longnecks not to decommission him, he was already gone. Took a nasty blow to the head and neck in a training exercise — he wasn't gonna wake up no matter how much time we bought him. And if he did, he'd've been completely paralyzed. The longnecks didn't see the point in keeping him alive, so . . . At least he went peacefully, I guess." He shrugged. "I dunno. That's what I tell myself, anyway."

Shaeeah glanced down at the holorecorder. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it anymore," she said. "You don't have to-"

"No, Sha'ika. It's fine." Cut sighed, a small, gentle smile gracing his lips. "They deserve to have their stories told. All of us do. And, if I can help with that, it's the least I can do. They were . . . They _are_ my brothers."


End file.
